


pick my lock, baby

by dendryllio



Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Dom/sub, Light Bondage, M/M, No Refractory Period, Overuse of italics, Overuse of puns, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Thieves Guild, as seen in the title, brynjolf can pick my lock any day, brynjolf uses “little lad” as a pet name, dom brynjolf, forgive them if it sucks, slutty dovahkiin, that is canon and i will not be accepting debates over it, the writer used this fic to get over writers block, unrealistic use of shouts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-17
Updated: 2020-12-17
Packaged: 2021-03-10 20:14:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,445
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28133010
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dendryllio/pseuds/dendryllio
Summary: “You’re known as the greatest fighter in Tamriel, but I and everyone else you’ve seduced know just how much of a weak pillow princess you really are.” His grip tightened around the Bosmer’s wrists. “You can defeat Alduin, but you can’t defeat Brynjolf. I know you’re used to getting your way, what with being the Thane of multiple capitals, getting away with anything you like just by throwing that in the guards’ faces. But I’m going to make you wait just as long as I please. Your commands have no power over me.”
Relationships: Brynjolf/Male Dovahkiin | Dragonborn
Comments: 4
Kudos: 32





	pick my lock, baby

**Author's Note:**

> a bit of background about this skyrim oc:  
> -he’s a follower of hermaeus mora, but is not his champion  
> -he’s already defeated alduin before this fic takes place  
> -he’s a member of every faction but hasn’t progressed up the ranks, he’s only joined them for the perks  
> -he’s a massive slut  
> -he’s a jack of all trades and uses all fighting styles, but he’s primarily a stealth archer (original, i know)  
> -to help visualize him, he has milky white eyes, he’s very petite (5’2 and thin), he has long silver hair, and he has very long ears, even for an elf
> 
> basically i want brynjolf to fuck my brains out but i don’t write fanfiction about myself so i had him fuck one of my skyrim ocs instead :))
> 
> last thing, if this does well and my writers block doesn’t come back, i’ll turn this into a series where barufurea gets absolutely railed by every skyrim npc i have a crush on :,)

“You would do well in the Thieves Guild, lad,” Brynjolf commented over a tankard of mead, sitting across from the wood elf at a table in the Bee and Barb.

“I’m in the Thieves Guild.” Barufurea took a long swig of his goat’s milk, staying sober as he always was. The religion of Daedra worship he grew up in forbade him of alcohol.

“You know what I mean, Dragonborn.” 

Barufurea scoffed, hating being called by the title.

“You’ve only joined us for the perks as you have the other factions. You’re a member of the Brotherhood, the College of Winterhold, the Companions… You’ve built up quite a reputation, lad.”

“It’s a stereotype. Just because I worship Hermaeus Mora doesn’t mean I’ll do whatever I can for knowledge.”

Brynjolf gave him a look that said  _ ‘But it’s true, isn’t it?’ _

“You’re naturally stealthy. You like money. You like  _ me, _ ” the Bosmer archer scoffed at that, “I just can’t understand why you  _ wouldn’t _ want to rise in the ranks of the Guild.” 

The wood elf’s voice lowered in volume and he leaned forward across the table.

“Why don’t you  _ convince _ me?” Barufurea’s milky eyes were lidded with his vague proposition and Brynjolf inhaled sharply.

“What are you insinuating, little elf?” The thief took a seductive sip of his mead, the alcohol warming his bones, chilled from the harsh Sun’s Dusk weather.

“Well, for starters, you could take me into the room I bought for my stay here and warm me up. This winter is oh so cold and the wind has really been picking up lately as I’m sure you’ve noticed.” The Bosmer pulled his velvet green cloak tighter around himself in an exaggerated show of fake shivering.

“Shagging the Last Dragonborn, eh? That’s a trophy comparable to the Crown of Barenziah.”

“You’re a master pickpocket, you’ve shown that to me. An adventurer can only wonder what those skilled thieving fingers could do in another situation. Perhaps a more,  _ intimate _ one?” Barufurea batted his silver lashes as if he needed to do anything further to receive Brynjolf’s undivided attention.

In an instant, the stealth archer was lifted from his seat, hurriedly throwing a pouch of gold at Keerava, the Argonian winking at the Dovahkiin as he was pulled towards the upstairs room he had rented for the night. A brief thought crossed Barufurea’s mind to tip the inn owner extra for what was about to transpire. It wasn’t like he couldn’t afford it.

Barufurea tripped over his normally graceful feet as he was dragged up the steep stairs, Brynjolf pushing him down onto the mattress when they arrived in the attic room, bed frame creaking as he landed, the Thieves Guild member closing the door behind them.

“So you want me to pick your lock, huh?”

The elf smiled coyly. “You can pick my pocket too if you’d like.” He spread his legs whorishly and Brynjolf settled between them, pressing their lips together in a wet, messy kiss. 

Barufurea let out a soft whimper as they swapped spit, grinding their arousals against each other in such a way that strongly conveyed their need to get off.

“Hmm, I’ve been thinking about those fingers since we met. You’ve no idea how many times I’ve fingered myself during my travels, imagining they were your own,” Barufurea made eye contact with the older man, seducing him with a practiced touch. “Why don’t you let me suck on them, get them all wet before you shove them inside me?”

Brynjolf groaned, cock twitching in his trousers. “God, you’re really such a slut.” The elf grinned seductively as the Thieves Guild member pressed his lithe fingers to Barufurea’s thin but pretty lips, the smaller man sucking them into his hot mouth and licking over the salty digits.

Barufurea moaned wantonly around the fingers as the thief’s free hand palmed his straining bulge, rutting up against the friction.

“Fuck me already, I need you to fuck me.”

“Be patient, love.” Brynjolf unfastened the elf’s trousers skillfully, running his fingers over his already exposed hole.

“No,” Barufurea commanded, bucking his hips against the fingers. “You’re going to fuck me hard and fast and as soon as possible and I will not stand to wait any longer than absolutely necessary.”

The bulkier man chuckled. “You’re stronger than you look, I’m aware of that.” He took hold of the Dragonborn’s wrists and pinned them above his head with one hand. “But you’re not stronger than me. In sheer strength, at least.”

Barufurea opened his pretty little mouth to respond but was cut off, long pointed ears twitching as Brynjolf spoke again, that rough accent  _ doing things  _ to his body.

“You’re known as the greatest fighter in Tamriel, but I and everyone else you’ve seduced know just how much of a weak pillow princess you really are.” His grip tightened around the Bosmer’s wrists. “You can defeat Alduin, but you can’t defeat Brynjolf. I know you’re used to getting your way, what with being the Thane of multiple capitals, getting away with anything you like just by throwing that in the guards’ faces. But I’m going to make you wait just as long as I please. Your commands have no power over me.”

Barufurea let out an uncharacteristic whimper. He strained experimentally against the tight grip and his hole clenched around nothing when he realized he wasn’t getting out of this. He got out of  _ everything… well _ , he supposed,  _ not  _ just _ everything.  _

Brynjolf pressed a finger, bulky as the rest of him, into the pliant hole in front of him, Barufurea letting out a loud cry at the welcomed intrusion.

“How many times can you come for me, lad? I would assume being Dragonborn and all has to grant you some type of greater refractory period.”

Barufurea did, in fact, have an impressive refractory period, but it hadn’t come  _ directly _ from being Dragonborn. He had focused most of his training on shouts, being the first to actually develop his own customized ones. Now he was able to create shouts to accomplish most everything he couldn't do himself. Barufurea had become displeased with other people being unable to do exactly what he wanted, and assumed shouts as his go-to method of non-combat attack.

After fornicating with basically any person he found attractive all across Skyrim, the elf had become annoyed with being unable to come more than two (or three if he was feeling particularly wound up) times in a singular session. So he got to work creating a shout that would expel his refractory period altogether.

Barufurea nodded as seductively as he could from his restrained position.

“I can come as many times as you’d like,  _ sir. _ ” He decided at the last moment to add the honorific, recognizing that Brynjolf clearly got off on holding power over people.

He was correct, the thief groaning at the word and pressing another finger in, curling them to meet Barufurea’s prostate. The smaller man sobbed in pleasure at the sudden lightning bolt of stimulation. His cock spilled precome over his abs, feeling as though Brynjolf was forcing the come out of him through his arse.

“Well, in that case,” Brynjolf’s sentence trailed off intentionally as he wrapped his perfect lips around the head of the wood elf’s cute cock.

It wasn’t necessarily cute in the sense that it was small (it was five and a half inches, perfectly average  _ thankyouverymuch) _ , it was just  _ cute.  _ The head was shiny with pre and a pretty deep pink hue, the shaft a milky ivory with a tint of red undertones, curving ever so slightly towards his flat belly when he was hard as he was now.

And boy was Barufurea hard. The wet heat of the thief’s mouth felt like heaven around his straining length, and paired with the unrelenting stimulation of his prostate… well, let’s just say he wasn’t going to last much longer. Brynjolf wasn’t planning on anything else.

“Bryn, sir, oh I’m going to come!” Barufurea cried out, straining harder against the grip he wasn’t sure how Brynjolf still held when he was working so hard down there. A third finger was pressed past his rim and he sobbed loudly, throwing his head back sharply against the wood of the bed frame as he came hard down the Nord’s skilled throat.

“Ow…” Barufurea rubbed at the back of his head once Brynjolf had let go of his wrists in order to pull off and spit the release into the bucket serving as a rubbish bin next to the bed. Barufurea had a disappointed look plastered on his face when the thief looked back at him.

“What’s that all about, lad? You’re gonna start your complaining again as usual, aren’t you?”

“You could’ve swallowed,” the Bosmer huffed, crossing his arms to match his cuter-than-intended pout.

“I didn’t want to.”

Barufurea rolled his eyes, not used to being talked back to like this. He had saved all of Tamriel, for Herma’s sake, nobody should dare be rude to him. He almost liked the way Brynjolf didn’t care how famous he was though, but he wouldn’t show it. He had to put on that pissy, disappointed demeanor as he always did, or else nobody would listen to him.

“Are you going to fuck me now?”

“I thought you had some amazing refractory period.”

“I do, give me a moment.”

Barufurea took a deep breath before harnessing the dragon energy in his bones into a shout.

_ “Nem, Far Enc!” _

The Dovahkiin’s cock filled out again in a mesmerizing show that looked like a time lapse.

“Oh wow. That’s really handy.” Brynjolf looked starstruck as he stroked the pretty cock in front of him in a show that looked like he was making sure it was real. “You’re really a wet dream come true, lad.”

“I’m aware,” Barufurea replied smugly.

“That’s not very polite, is it? Polite boys don’t get cocks inside their cute little holes.” Brynjolf lifted himself from the floor and kneeled between the Bosmer’s spread legs. “And you want this, don’t you?” 

Barufurea hadn’t even noticed that Brynjolf had taken his cock out, but by the Daedra, it was positively  _ mouth-watering. _

It was  _ big,  _ nearly as long as the petite elf’s forearm, and just about as thick too. If Barufurea were to stroke him off (there  _ would _ be a next time, wouldn’t there?), he wouldn’t count on being able to wrap one hand around the sheer girth of it. It was flushed from neglect and the veins running up the length were prominent, even from where Barufurea was lying, further from Brynjolf than most anyone would prefer to be.

“Yeah,  _ yeah,  _ I want it, who wouldn’t?”

“Then you’d better be a polite little lad. Brynjolf doesn’t make exceptions for the Dragonborn.” He stroked himself slowly and Barufurea was fairly sure his mouth  _ did _ water this time.

“Please Bryn,  _ please _ won’t you shove your dick inside me, sir? I need it inside my little arsehole, need you pounding me into the mattress, fucking the come out of me, rearranging my guts…” the small Bosmer trailed off, bucking his hips up desperately against nothing, fully gone and willing to do anything to feel that length inside him.

“Does that shout work on others? ‘Cause you’re on the track to make me come early, lad,” Brynjolf teased, slicking his length and Barufurea’s throbbing hole with a vial of oil he’d pulled out of  _ gods know where,  _ but the Dovahkiin was just not having it, ignoring the sentence in favour of continuing to bed for that mesmerizing cock under his breath.

“Don’t ignore my jokes, love. I know you want my pick in your lock.” Brynjolf’s eyebrows did a little dance on his temple and Barufurea’s eyes rolled so intensely that it would be apparent to anyone, even with his lack of a pupil and iris to visibly disappear into his head. He was brimming with sarcasm and Brynjolf found his brattiness wholesome, although it was intended to be far from.

_ “Apocrypha,  _ please just get on with it already, sir,” he continued to beg, hips never stilling.

Brynjolf  _ finally  _ decided to take pity on the man under him, pressing the head of his frankly too-large member past Barufurea’s willing pink rim.

“Fuck,  _ fuckfuckfuck  _ that’s quite bigger than I expected!”

“That’s what they all tell me. You ready for more, little lad?”

“Yeah, yesyes, yeah please I can take it I have a high pain tolerance, please just hurry  _ Ireallyneedit _ ,” Barufurea rambled, words desperate and completely shameless by this point.

“Good boy,” Brynjolf spoke lowly, pressing further until he was nearly halfway in. “My little lad is being so polite now that I’ve reminded him what polite boys get for being so sweet.”

_ “Oh!”  _ The dainty Bosmer gasped, breath punched out of him as the biggest girth he’d ever taken by far bottomed out, hips of both thieves pressed flush against each other. “By Herma’s library, you’re simply  _ colossal!” _ Brynjolf took a moment to chuckle at the Daedra worshipper’s eccentric curses as his hole adjusted to the size, fluttering prettily around the thief’s cock.

Barufurea was taken aback as Brynjolf pulled out suddenly all the way to the head before slamming back in with such force that the Bosmer was convinced for a moment that he was going to come untouched.

_ “Fuck, _ that cunt is good.” 

Barufurea had never heard his arse called a cunt before, and he didn’t expect himself to like it as much as he did. But with how close he was and how good the cock inside of him felt, his pretty pink member twitched frantically at the word and he came all over himself, crying out sonorously in a mix of surprise and blinding pleasure. The Bosmer nearly blacked out as his second orgasm was exponentially more intense than the first.

His hole, his  _ cunt,  _ clenched tightly as it was able around Brynjolf’s more than sizable cock, triggering the bulky man above him to come, the two men finishing one directly after the other.

Brynjolf pulled out and collapsed on top of Barufurea. The smaller man huffed out a laugh, rolling out from under him so they were side by side, the Thieves Guild member spooning him sweetly.

“Sorry, little lad, I didn’t mean to come so early.” Brynjolf was glad the elf was facing away from him so he couldn’t see his blush.

“You’re fine. It doesn’t really matter cause you made me come first anyways. And it was good, I wouldn’t mind doing it again sometime.”

“So you’re saying…” Barufurea mentally prepared himself for another terrible joke. “I can pick your pocket anytime?”

“Yeah. You can pick my pocket anytime.”

**Author's Note:**

> if you’re a big final fantasy nerd, you may have noticed that barufurea is the japanese name of balthier from ffxii, which i had just finished when i first started skyrim, and balthier was my favourite character so i named my first skyrim character after him 🤪
> 
> kudos & comments are greatly appreciated, peace & love !!!


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